


the lesson

by princesskay



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: Holden pushes the boundaries of he and Bill's fledgling relationship - and gets more than he ever bargained for.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	the lesson

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon on tumblr who requested: roadschool days, i’d love to see a naughty holden winding bill up while they’re out eating, and getting what he deserves later in the bedroom ;)

At a little past six-thirty, the dinner rush is long over. Sunlight fades towards dusk over the inconspicuous diner off the I-44 where Bill and Holden occupy a booth along the window-lined wall facing the road, and the rest of the tables are scarcely populated by old-timers who don’t have anything better to do with their Friday night than sit around eating greasy burgers and ice cream sundaes and gossiping. 

Holden absently stirs his straw through the melted remnants of his vanilla milkshake while Bill lights the cigarette clasped in the corner of his mouth. The sting of nicotine competes against the smell of frying oil that hangs in the air.

“Got any plans for the long weekend?” Holden asks. 

“Nancy always insists we have a barbecue, have a bunch of people over.” 

Bill’s gaze doesn’t stray from the window where the road leads off toward downtown Tulsa, Oklahoma and the precinct where they’d just come from teaching road school. Smoke clouds his terse expression at the mention of his wife. 

Holden leans forward to take a sip of his milkshake. 

“Sounds thrilling.”

The sarcastic response draws Bill’s tired eyes from the window and across the table. He takes his cigarette out of his mouth, and blows a narrow stream of smoke past tense lips. 

“What about you?” Bill asks, “Any plans for the 4th?” 

“Debbie will want to go out to the bar.” 

“You’d rather stay home?”

Holden shrugs, manufacturing indifference. “Before we started dating, I mostly hung out on the couch and watched the parade on TV. What would you rather be doing?”

Bill gazes at him for a moment before taking another drag of his cigarette, and absently tapping ashes into the tray. 

“Nothing. It’s good to have time to spend with my family.” He says at length, his tone contrived and unconvincing. 

Holden’s gaze attaches itself to Bill’s fingers, brain automatically ignoring the golden glint of his wedding ring. Momentarily, he isn’t thinking about the holiday weekend or his plans for the Fourth of July. He’s thinking about how some parts of Nebraska are so vacant and scarcely populated that no one notices or cares when a car pulls off to the side of the road, and one man’s head dips down into the other’s lap. He’s thinking about the past three weeks, how everything changed the moment he had the burst of courage to put his hand on Bill’s thigh at that empty intersection in the middle of nowhere. 

He doesn’t really remember how the conversation had led up to this total collapse of his inhibitions, or why he’d chosen that moment to let his repressed desires run free. He only remembers wondering if he’d made a mistake right before Bill whispered, “Wait. Let me pull over.”

He’d expected a bigger fight out of Bill, who clings desperately to his staunch facade of harsh masculinity; and sure, Bill hadn’t been delicate or submissive when Holden went down on him. His fingers had been all knotted up in his hair, pushing and pulling eagerly even as his hips surged up into the pressure. But he hasn’t tried to define his desires as something other than homosexual, or divorce himself from the satisfaction they’ve both been getting out of their private times together for the past few weeks. 

Now, they’re here in a diner talking about bleak, stereotypical Fourth of July plans, and Bill is trying to convince him he’d rather be with his family. Holden shouldn’t have expected his compliance to extend beyond the controlled confines of a few quick, messy blowjobs, but he wonders just how far that leniency stretches. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Holden sinks back against the hard plastic of the booth seat cover, and shifts his gaze critically back to Bill. 

“It’s a long weekend. No road school.” He says, “Are you going to miss me?”

Bill scoffs a laugh from the back of his throat. 

“Well, are you?”

“Sure.”

“You could invite me to your barbecue.” 

Bill’s eyes narrow, his mouth tilting in a grim smile. “I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s a bad idea.”

“You don’t think Nancy and I would get along?” 

Bill shakes his head, his jaw rippling with clenched muscle. 

“I can talk to pretty much anyone.” Holden says, “I think she would like me just fine.”

Holden shifts his foot across the grimy tile floor to find Bill’s foot under the booth. As their feet nudge against one another, he holds Bill’s simmering gaze. 

“No, you’re right, she probably would.” Bill says, deliberately ashing his cigarette in the tray. “She’s nice like that.”

Holden’s teeth scrape across his lower lip, pinching down nerves. He carefully nudges his foot up against Bill’s. 

“So, are you inviting me?”

“Ah, no.” 

“Well ... That’s your loss.”

Bill pulls his foot away from Holden’s as he shifts back in the booth seat, sizing up Holden’s flirtatious stare. 

“You do remember we’re in public, don’t you?”

Holden quickly scans the diner, and chuckles, “No one is paying attention. Some of these old farts probably can’t even see all the way over here.”

He defiantly stretches his leg out further to relocate Bill’s retreating foot. Their toes knock against one another before Holden slides the outside of his foot into Bill’s insole. 

Bill’s foot escapes again, and a scowl deepens on his brow. “Holden, stop. I mean it.”

Holden slides his foot back to his side of the booth, and bites back a smirk. 

“Are you almost done with that?” Bill asks, jabbing an impatient finger at Holden’s milkshake. 

“Nearly.” 

Bill frowns as Holden drags the straw into his mouth and sucks down pointedly. 

“Well, hurry up.” 

“What are you in a rush for?”

“We’ve got an early flight tomorrow morning.”

“Eager to get home to that barbecue?” Holden asks. Under the booth, he carefully slides his loafer off his right foot toe-to-heel. 

“I guess so.”

“Bill, please. You, trying to be a social butterfly? It sounds like torture.” Holden says as his foot comes free of the shoe. 

He slides his stocking toes across the tile to find Bill’s foot, and nudges along the insole and up against Bill’s ankle, just underneath the edge of the pant leg. 

“Why don’t you just admit you would rather be in the car, driving down some highway, while I suck your cock?” Holden asks, his voice dropping down to a whisper. 

Bill’s eyes flash, and his cheeks brighten with color. His leg begins to retreat, but Holden follows it with the press of his toes. 

“You should really stop.” Bill says, but he’s not making any moves to get away from the wriggling pressure of Holden’s toes climbing his calf. 

“Here’s another question.” Holden says, ignoring the warning. “Because it’s a holiday, does that mean you get head? Or is it just plain old missionary like always?”

Bill’s hand seizes Holden’s foot below the table just as it reaches past his knee to poke against his inner thigh. His fingers curl around the top while his thumb digs into Holden’s sole, sending a tingling sensation all the way up his leg and into his groin. 

Holden winces, struggling to rearrange a cool expression above the booth while his lower half is beginning to squirm impatiently with curling heat. 

“Your mouth is really going to get into trouble one day, you know that?” Bill asks, his eyes gripping Holden fiercely from across the table. 

Holden stares back at him, his chest shuddering with an exhilarated breath. 

“Then maybe you should do something about it.” 

Bill’s grip loosens, and Holden takes the opportunity to pull his foot free and push the ball of his foot up along Bill’s inner thigh. 

“Well?” Holden presses, “I’m asking for it, aren’t I?”

Bill’s gaze sharpens, and his nostrils flare. He seems close to losing his temper, but his eyes flutter shut over the flash of anger when Holden works his toes along his thigh. He stiffens, hardly moving except for the tremble that runs through him. Gradually, his legs shift open until Holden’s foot is seeking up against his groin, finding the pulse of an erection steadily growing. 

Bill’s head ducks as he mutters a curse. Leaning forward, he takes a tremulous drag of his cigarette, and hesitantly grinds his hips forward. 

Holden wraps his lips around the straw of his milkshake, and focuses on the foamy remnants seeping out of the bottom of the glass. His heart is pounding with the risky, erotic nature of what he’s doing, but the edge of danger only makes his insides melt faster and hotter with need. 

Rubbing the ball of his foot up and down, he feels Bill’s erection growing and throbbing, unrestrained by the public setting. His expression is taut with growing need, but he remains calmer than Holden could have managed himself. He slips his eyes open to glare at Holden from across the table, communicating silent need and frustration. 

Holden nudges his foot forward into the press of Bill’s hips just as he glimpses the waitress approaching their table along his peripheral vision. A cold bolt of horror divides his chest as reality yanks back the curtain on this little, erotic moment of dangerous desire. He yanks his foot back, searching for his discarded shoe blindly under the table. 

Bill leans forward, muffling a grunt in the palm of his hand. His throat is flushed, but he manages to arrange a calm expression as the waitress arrives at the table, unaware of what she’d just interrupted. 

“Can I get you two anything else?” She asks, regarding them with a wide smile. 

“No, um, thanks.” Bill says, his voice strained. “Check, please.” 

When the waitress leaves, Bill shoots him a glare from across the table. His chest is rising with hitched breaths, and his mouth is set in a firm line. He doesn’t have to say anything to explain the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. 

He reaches under the table to discreetly adjust himself, and Holden swallows back a thrilled smirk despite the horror still chilling his heated veins. 

“You want to hit the bathroom before we leave?” Holden asks. 

“I don’t think so. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Holden ducks his head.  _ So many things I never thought possible. Until you.  _

When the check arrives, Bill pays quickly, and nods for Holden to follow him outside. Tucking his foot back in his shoe, Holden climbs out of the booth, and trails behind Bill with exhilaration flooding his veins. 

As they emerge into the muggy, summer air, Bill yanks his keys out of his pocket, and strides at a determined clip towards the car. 

Holden hurries after him, hoping he hadn’t pressed his buttons too hard. It’s terribly easy. Bill wears all of his buttons on his chest, in full view, and he can’t help but keep jabbing them all at once. Usually, it goes in Holden’s favor, but there’s always the possibility of the direct opposite occurring.

When they both get into the car and pull the doors shut behind them, silence settles. 

Bill casts him a glare. “Don’t look so fucking smug. We could have been caught.” 

“I’m not.” Holden says, though the smile tugging on his mouth is decidedly the opposite. 

Bill jabs his keys into the ignition, and twists hard. As he pulls out of the diner parking lot and back onto the road, Holden edges his fingers across the seat leather to touch Bill’s thigh, extending a silent invitation that Bill quickly slaps away. 

“Don’t even think about it.” He says, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. 

“Why not? I can tell you want to.”

“So do you. A little too much.” Bill says, casting Holden a snide glance before focusing on the road again. His voice drops to a low, coarse timbre, “I’ll deal with you when we get back to the hotel.”

Holden’s cheeks flush hot with a sudden rash of alarm and need. He tucks his hand back in his lap, and peeks hesitantly across the car at Bill. 

“What does that mean?” 

“What did you expect when you asked me to do something about you and your smart mouth?” 

“I don’t know, I-”

Bill chuckles, and shakes his head. “You don’t know.”

“No, I thought … I thought maybe you could make me get on my knees … in the bathroom.” Holden whispers, his throat growing unbearably hot. 

Bill’s gaze shifts across the car to regard him with growing amusement and resolution. “Well … You’re not getting off that easy.”

Holden stares across the car at him, his mouth slipping partially open. A dozen questions crowd at the back of his throat, but he sinks back against the seat without saying a word. 

When they reach the motel, Holden clambers out of the car to hastily follow Bill to their room. Bill unlocks the door, and holds it open for Holden to go in ahead of him. 

Shuffling across the carpet, Holden pauses in front of the nearest bed, and turns to regard Bill in the humming silence. 

The door eases shut, and the lock clicks. Bill’s hands are loose at his sides, twitching with building, needy energy. 

Holden draws in a hitched breath. He begins to open his mouth to speak, to ask Bill what he wants, where he wants Holden to kneel or lay, but Bill marches across the room before the eager submission can verbally emerge. 

Holden gasps softly as Bill’s body collides into him, both hands clutching at his cheeks to draw him into a brusque kiss. He kisses roughly across Holden’s lower lip, teeth snaring, tongue curling over the raw abrasion; and Holden whimpers, opening his mouth to it, offering his submission. Every inch of him is humming with need, some great momentum it feels like his body can’t contain. 

Bill’s mouth releases his, and Holden trembles against him, panting softly. Their gazes clash, need and frustration coalescing in between their muted, raspy breaths. 

Holden opens his mouth to ask what Bill is going to do to him, but Bill clutches him by the lapels of his jacket and shoves him down onto the bed. Holden lands on his back with a grunt, and struggles to get himself propped up on his elbows as Bill loosens his tie. 

“What are you doing just laying there?” Bill asks as he discards the tie on the end of the bed, and unbuttons his shirt. 

Holden scrambles upright, and begins discarding his own clothes in a hurry. When he gets down to his underwear, Bill puts a hand on his wrist to stop him. Holden looks up from his lap where his cock is already struggling against the confines of the thin fabric to see Bill looking at him with a concentrated gleam of determination in his eyes. 

“Lay back.” He says, nodding at the pillows. 

Holden swallows hard, his chest pounding with exhilaration and crowding with questions. He wants to ask what they’re doing and where this is headed, but he doubts Bill would answer him anyway. His mind is made up, and Holden can only wonder if he pushed too far. 

He lays back, his hands twitching restlessly at his sides. 

“Hands above your head.” Bill says, his tone low and calm. 

Holden hesitates for a moment before lifting his arms. His mind races for a scarce few seconds before Bill picks up his discarded tie, and circles around to the right side of the bed. Grabbing Holden’s wrist, he yanks his arm out straight towards that end of the headboard, and loops the tie around it. 

“Bill, what-”

“Quiet.” Bill says, his voice muted, yet brooking no argument. 

Holden purses his lips shut, and watches with widening eyes as Bill deftly ties his wrist to the far right end of the headboard. 

Bill tugs on the knot to make sure it’s secure before he stoops to locate Holden’s tie from its discarded spot on the floor. Walking around to the other side of the bed, he repeats the same stiff knot on Holden’s left wrist. 

Holden lays still the entire time, watching as his freedom is gradually stripped away, replaced by the raw scratch and scarce give of the ties cinched tightly around his wrists. When Bill is done, his arms are stretched tautly towards either side of the mattress, giving him little room to do anything other than arch his back and kick his feet. 

Bill stands back, eyeing his work. He’s still in his boxers, but Holden can see the twitch of his erection beginning to tent the front of the fabric. 

In the silence, Holden hears the click of his own tongue as he swallows hard. He squirms softly against the restraints, his toes digging into the mattress because it's the only leverage he can assert. 

“Now what?” He whispers, though Bill had ordered him to silence. 

Bill doesn’t reply. He ambles over to the nightstand to grab his cigarettes. Pressing one to his mouth, he absently flicks his thumb over the lighter until the tip bursts into flame. 

Holden frowns, his teeth scraping impatiently at his lower lip. 

Bill takes a slow drag of the cigarette, and tilts his head back to blow a smoke ring at the ceiling. As it dissolves, he turns to lift one knee onto the edge of the mattress. 

“Not what you were expecting, hm?”

Holden shakes his head, his arms curling instinctively against the ties as Bill crawls onto the bed and straddles his hips. 

“You said you were asking for it.” Bill says, his thumb catching on the waistband of his boxers. 

Holden’s breath catches as the fabric clears his cock, letting the thick, hard flesh spring free. 

“And you were. So I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

Holden bites back a groan as the boxers come off, one leg at a time, until Bill straddling Holden’s hips with his cock all hard and pulsing in his hand. 

He takes another low drag of the cigarette before letting it fall forgotten to his side. His hand curls around his cock, dragging it to full hardness, applying firm pressure to the tender throbbing shaft. A grunt rises from the back of his throat, and his eyelids slip shut against the slow pleasuring. 

Holden tries not to squirm watching the display unfold right in front of his eyes but having no agency to assert over how this encounter progresses. He licks his lips and opens his mouth, the only thing he can offer at the moment. 

Bill shifts forward on his knees, causing the bed springs to groan into the silence. He leaves his cigarette propped in the corner of his mouth, bleeding lazy smoke spirals through the air as he makes his way up to Holden’s chest, and seizes a fistful of the hair at his crown. 

The forceful yank garners a whimper from Holden’s throat, but he opens his mouth eagerly. Bill peers down at him through a haze of smoke, his eyes translating repressed longing and annoyance and a margin of satisfaction at Holden’s helpless position below him. Grasping Holden’s hair in one hand, he cradles his jaw in the other and presses his thumb on Holden’s chin to force his mouth open wider. 

Holden blinks up at him, telegraphing eager need. He can’t speak as Bill’s cock nudges across the slick swell of his lower lip, but his mind is screaming all kinds of submissive affirmations. 

As his cock head slides past Holden’s lips, Bill takes the cigarette from his mouth. Exhaling a steady stream of smoke, he closes his eyes and furrows his brow in aroused concentration. 

“Fuck …” He mutters, his jaw clenching as he drags Holden’s head forward by his hair. 

Holden moans around the mouthful of Bill’s cock shoving into his mouth, and struggles to clasp his lips around the thick girth. The flesh gives a pronounced throb inside of his mouth, and Bill groans softly from above. 

Adjusting his grip on Holden’s hair, he begins to thrust his hips forward at a shallow, yet steady pace. A few times, his cockhead hits the back of Holden’s palate, nearly choking him, but the forceful rutting only causes the saliva to gush, Holden’s lips to go quivering and slick around the shaft. 

Holden whimpers around the steady invasion of Bill’s cock fucking into his mouth. He casts a glance upward through watery eyes to glimpse Bill’s belly quivering with need, his chest rising with staggered breaths, his lips breathing smoke as the cigarette crumbles and burns from the corner of his mouth. He has one hand braced around the headboard while he hangs onto Holden’s hair with the other, using both as leverage to make their bodies meet in rhythm. 

Just as Holden can taste salt at the back of his tongue, Bill pulls his cock out of his mouth. The hard flesh springs free and wobbles back and forth against his belly, all spit-slick and gleaming with swollen, purple veins. Holden gasps in a breath, and swallows back the pooling saliva in his mouth. He feels half-dizzy from the force of it, from barely breathing, but the ensuing rush in his veins is more powerful than anything he’s experienced with Bill before. 

Bill takes the cigarette from his mouth, letting the ashes at the end crumble. A few of them land on Holden’s bare shoulder, a slight burn that dissipates within seconds yet causes his jaw to clench against a muted hiss of pain. 

Bill guides his head back into a tilt, and regards him with a smirk. 

“This is the only way I can get you to shut up, isn’t it?” He murmurs. 

Holden frowns, definitely. “No, I-”

Bill lets go of his hair only to slap him on the corner of the mouth, just hard enough to sting. 

Holden blinks up at him in shock with his smarting lips dangling open. 

“Good. A little further.” Bill says, nudging his chin to make him open his mouth wider. 

Astonished, Holden doesn’t find the will to protest Bill shifts closer again and smothers his gaping mouth with his ballsack. The warm weighted flesh rests against his tongue and over his lips, more than his mouth can handle all at once; he sucks in a hard breath through his nostrils, and suckles down tentatively while casting a fervid glance upward. 

Bill gazes down at him with his nostrils flared and his mouth pursed against a groan. The cigarette clutched between his fingers is still dwindling, untouched and forgotten, while his other hand grabs at his cock. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Bill whispers, his eyelids slipping shut. 

Holden lifts his head from the pillow to nudge his face closer. He sucks off the sac, and thrusts his tongue forward to circle around the tender globe contained inside. Bill shudders as his tongue weaves around both in a sloppy figure eight, lathering the flesh in saliva before he takes the other sac in his mouth. 

“Oh, God.” Bill groans as Holden’s mouth wraps around the sensitive skin. 

He jerks harder at his cock, fingers sliding over the gush of saliva Holden’s mouth had left behind. Bowing forward, he grabs onto the headboard to brace himself against the incoming rush of pleasure. 

Holden watches past half-shut eyes as Bill’s cockhead juts in and out of his fist, glistening with pre-cum each time it comes into his view. He keeps eagerly suckling and licking, ignoring his stammered gasps for air through his nostrils and the mess of saliva trickling from the corners of his mouth. His own cock is pulsing wildly against his underwear at the risque details of this lesson, an encounter that has yet to teach him much of anything besides how much he enjoys having any part of Bill’s body in his mouth.

Abruptly, Bill pulls back, divesting Holden’s mouth of his balls. He curls inward, his expression tensing and twisting with intense pleasure just before the stiff tremble in his hips bolts into spasms. 

Holden gasps, and barely has a second to regret that decision before a hot, slick rope of cum lands across his mouth and cheek, splattering a generous glob across his tongue. Instinctively, his eyes and mouth slam shut against the next jetting rain of release that dapples his chin, mouth, cheeks, and nose. He feels a few drops land on his forehead and drizzle warmly into his hairline. The release lasts for several moments, but he lays utterly still until Bill’s trembles and groans of orgasm peter off into heavy breathing and the fluid on his cheeks begins to cool. 

When it comes to an end, Bill pants quietly for a moment before dismounting Holden’s chest. The bed creaks as he climbs off, and pads across the carpet towards the bathroom. 

Holden’s eyelids creep open to glimpse the light spilling across the carpet from the bathroom. He can feel cum rolling down his cheeks in warm rivulets, creeping past his temples into his hair, underneath his jawline, even a bit going into his left ear. 

The bathroom faucet runs before Bill saunters back to the bed carrying a damp washcloth. His expression is calm and restrained again, and Holden has no doubt that the premature orgasm was intentional. Now, Holden is tied down and rock hard, unable to achieve the same release. 

Pressing his cigarette to the corner of his mouth, Bill sits down beside him and quietly peruses the mess of cum dripping across Holden’s face. 

Holden trembles as Bill runs his thumb across his lower lip where an abundant amount of cum had landed. The slow stroke smears the fluid across his bottom lip and circles up against his upper lip to gloss his entire mouth. Choking on a quiet whimper, Holden tentatively opens his mouth to let Bill’s thumb slip inside where it rubs across his tongue. He closes his mouth and sucks down, sighing through his nostrils as the salty taste of cum combines with his saliva and trickles down his throat. 

Bill watches him quietly with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He thrusts his thumb gently into the suction of Holden’s mouth, enjoying the enthusiastic, wet suckling for a few moments before pulling it free. 

Holden pants quietly as Bill leans forward to wipe his face with the washcloth while his other hand reaches down to feel his hard cock through his underwear. 

“Mm, good boy.” He murmurs, his palm coarsely rubbing cotton into Holden’s erection. “I’m going to make an obedient little slut out of you yet.”

Holden’s face flushes with heat. His first reaction is to conjure a defiant response, but Bill is showing a side of himself he never has before. An unpredictable, wild side that Holden hadn’t expected or ever dreamed of. What would happen if he mouthed off now? Does he want to know? He’s anxious of what Bill might do with him, scared of how much he might enjoy the decadent torture. But that rush of adrenaline only makes him reckless, needy, and flush with euphoric hubris. 

“That’s easy to say when you have me tied up and powerless.” He whispers, ignoring the pounding of his heart. 

Bill wipes the washcloth along his jawline to clean up the last of his release, and retracts his hand. He gazes down at Holden with desire and defiance simmering in the faded blue of his eyes, a quiet challenge hidden deep inside:  _ I fucking dare you to keep talking.  _

Holden licks his lips. “You want me so bad. Don’t you?”

Bill’s brow flickers with a frown. 

“It kills you.” Holden continues in a low whisper, “That this is the only way you can control me.”

Bill takes the cigarette out of his mouth, and tilts his chin up to exhale a cloud of smoke. 

“You really push your luck, you know that?” He says, his eyes narrowing. “You’re lying here with your cock all ready and nowhere to stick it. And this is the game you want to play?”

Holden purses his lips, and tugs softly at the restraints. Heat seeps into his belly like boiled water, expanding, churning. Under his briefs, his cock gives a blatant twitch of desperation, a rift of erotic danger. He should take it all back, but he doesn’t want to.

“Okay, fine.” Bill says, “You want to be in charge of how this goes?”

Holden gulps as he watches Bill rise to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“I think you’ve asked enough questions. You’re done talking.” 

Holden flinches as Bill takes the cigarette out of his mouth and leans over to hold it to his lips. 

“Take it.” Bill orders. 

Holden opens his lips far enough for Bill to place the cigarette between them, and immediately inhales a sharp, stinging cloud of nicotine. He coughs, trying to cling onto the cigarette even as the back of his throat tickles incessantly. 

“Don’t drop it on the bed. Could be dangerous.” Bill says. 

Holden stares at him in horror as Bill turns and walks back into the bathroom. The door swings shut behind him, and the hotel room falls into utter silence. 

Holden lays utterly still, too astounded to move. His eyes water as smoke winds through the air above his face, the cigarette burning itself away gradually against his inadvertent inhales. As a watery line trickles from the corner of his eye, he carefully tightens his lips around the cigarette and repositions it between his teeth so that he can attempt to get a breath of oxygen around the seeping nicotine. The first tentative inhale makes him choke again, and he wheezes helplessly while struggling to hold onto the cigarette. 

Once the dry tickling in his throat eases, the ache of his cock nudges its way to the forefront of his mind. He glances down his body to see it standing erect against the thin weight of his underwear, twitching visibly within the cotton restraint. A groan urges at the back of his throat, and he presses his eyes shut against the tortured image. 

Tugging desperately at the ties wrapped around his wrists, he quickly realizes that the knots Bill had tied are stiffly secure and he isn’t going anywhere no matter how hard he thrashes. Despite the logic, a shiver of panic rushes down his spine as his mind begins to race and wonder just how long Bill is going to leave him trussed up for. 

His wiggling comes to a dead halt when he hears the shower in the bathroom turn on. The realization grips him with abrupt force, and he drops his head back against the pillow with a tortured groan. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to block out the throbbing of his cock aching at a persistent, unfulfilled tempo, tries to tell himself that he shouldn’t be this turned on right now. 

_ It’ll calm down in a few minutes.  _ He thinks as he listens to the steady drum of the water hitting the shower base. 

But it doesn’t. He tries to focus on not letting go of the cigarette. He tries to focus on relaxing. He tries to ignore the burn of the ties around his wrist. He tries to mentally smother the pulse of his erection. But none of it works, and his stupid dick won’t get the message that pleasure is minutes, or maybe - please God, no - hours off. 

After lying still for ten minutes, which seems more like an hour, Holden shoots a delirious glance at the clock and nearly chokes on a panicked, sharp inhale of cigarette smoke. Groaning aloud, he lurches against the restraints and kicks his feet. Unhinged need pounds through his chest as he struggles, a pointless endeavor that only urges his blood to flow hotter, faster and his need to balloon at an uncontrollable pace. 

Desperate emotion clutches at the back of his throat as his thrashing dies down, and he sinks back against the pillows with a breathless grunt. His moist eyelids slip open to gaze dourly at the ceiling above, screened by the smoke pouring from the crumbling cigarette. It dwindles between his lips, ashes flaking off and landing intermittently on his cheeks. Sucking in a tremulous breath, he exerts his efforts into shifting it carefully between his teeth to the corner of his mouth so that the disintegrating pieces can float into the air or onto the sheets. 

The water in the shower shuts off, and Holden stills against the disheveled duvet. His toes curl impatiently against the mattress as his ears strain, picking up the muted sound of the curtain pulling back and Bill stepping out of the shower. Fresh need sparks in his belly, and his cock leaps at the thought of Bill coming back out into the room to finish him off. He hadn’t dropped the cigarette and his cock is still rock hard; maybe both these observations will please Bill enough to have mercy, to forget his frustration. Maybe it will only encourage him. 

Holden’s hands curl into fists against the restraint of the ties as a shudder of need rolls through him. The throb in his groin intensifies, and he digs his heels into the mattress in an intractable writhe. His hips arch up from the mattress, shifting his underwear across his throbbing cock, offering the slightest friction that makes the arousal cinch into a dull, pounding ache. 

A few minutes later, the bathroom door eases open. 

Holden freezes against the mattress, barely breathing against the gradual, draining smoke as Bill’s shoulders fill the doorway. He regards Holden quietly from across the room as he wraps the towel around his waist and tucks it in place. 

Unable to contain his desperation, Holden begins to wiggle against the mattress again. The cigarette wobbles in the corner of his mouth, disintegrating down to a stub that burns a few scarce centimeters from his lips. He wants to beg Bill to take it, or at least acknowledge that he’d done what was asked of him; but neither of those are an option with the cigarette poised on his lips. 

Walking slowly across the carpet, Bill comes to stand over the right side of the bed. His gaze sweeps up and down Holden’s trembling body, silently and stoically, but Holden can see the glint of satisfaction muted behind the cool blue of his eyes. 

He carefully plucks the stub of the cigarette from Holden’s mouth, and crushes it down into nothing in the tray. 

Holden sucks in a deep breath and coughs, his eyes watering relentlessly. 

“I didn’t drop it.” He whispers, hoarsely when his choking eases. 

The corner of Bill’s mouth tugs. “Congratulations.” 

Holden’s nostrils flare, and he tugs impatiently at the restraints. He meets Bill’s unperturbed gaze, tamping down his impatience before arching his hips up to blatantly display his hard cock. 

“I’m still hard.”

“I can see that.” 

Holden swallows hard. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted you to stop talking for ten minutes, and think about the consequences of your decisions.”

Holden blinks, teeth scraping his lower lip raw. Need wrestles desperately in his chest, threatening to pulverize his ribs if it doesn’t find an escape route soon. He wants to scream or beg or cry, but his every attempt at pleasing Bill only seems to be creating the opposite effect. 

“Well, did you?” Bill asks. 

“Yes.” Holden nods, vehemently. “I did. And I’m sorry for what I said … for mouthing off, for-”

Bill chuckles. “It’s easy for you to say that when you’re tied up and powerless.”

Holden’s mouth falls shut as dismay ripples coldly through his chest. Pressing his eyes shut, he tries to stem the raging flow of panicked need, an electric energy running through every inch of him, leveling logical thought with painful arousal. 

“What else do you want me to do?” He whispers, his voice faltering with a whimper. “Please, just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Now you’re compliant.” Bill says, sounding skeptical. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, and runs his knuckles slowly down Holden’s stammering chest. 

Holden goes still, watching with wide eyes as Bill’s hand tracks down his chest, takes a left turn, and nudges at his nipple with a coarse thumb. A moan lunges at the back of his throat, and his back arches sharply against the scarce caress that feels like fire singeing his overwhelmed body. 

“What if I let you up?” Bill asks, softly. “Then what? You’re back to the same mouthy, smart-ass little shit you were back in the diner?”

“No.” Holden moans, pulling at the ties as Bill pinches his nipple. “Please. I promise, I won’t …”

Bill’s thumb and forefinger tighten around the nipple, squeezing gently right before he gives it a firm twist. 

“Ohh, ow.” Holden moans, twisting helplessly against the sheets. “Please.”

When the grip releases his nipple, Holden sinks back down, panting in jagged, exhilarated gulps. His eyelids slip open to watch in dazed pain and pleasure as Bill’s fingers wander down his quivering belly. 

“You want me to touch you?” Bill murmurs. 

“Yes, please.” Holden whispers, nodding eagerly. 

Bill’s fingertips graze Holden’s cock through his underwear, and Holden’s hips jolt up against the faint pressure, nothing more than a marionette dangling from orchestrated strings. Panicked need crushes faint tears to the corners of his eyes as his whole body strains toward the touch, but the caress is fleeting, dismally short-lived. 

Bill turns to hook his thumbs on the underwear, and forcefully strips them off. 

Holden cries out as his cock springs free of the elastic, rigid flesh swinging up against his belly to lie in untouched agony. The very graze of cool air across his pulsing cock makes his muscles clamp down taut with the meager sensation, leaving him throbbing wildly yet far from the verge of pleasure. 

Bill drops the towel as he stands back to survey Holden’s squirming, flushed body. His cock is half-hard again, nudging its way towards erection, and Holden despises the thought of him coming again before his own cock is satisfied. 

“Fuck, look at you.” Bill says, circling the end of the bed to view him from every angle. 

Holden’s feet squirm against the sheets as a rift of desperation runs through him. He can’t lay still with his cock throbbing and hurting with arousal, much less with Bill standing over him and watching him burn. 

Half a dozen wheedling pleas crowd at the back of his mind, but only the simplest, smallest whimper squeezes free of his choked throat, “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please …” Holden whispers, drawing in a hitched breath against a moan. “Please, let me come.”

Bill comes around to the other side of the bed, and catches Holden by the ankle. Forcing it from it’s crossed position over his other ankle, Bill stretches Holden’s trembling leg out towards the lower left corner of the mattress. 

“Lay still, like this.” He says, pinning Holden’s ankle to the mattress. 

Holden bites his lower lip as his groin tightens again, unbearably hot. His first instinct is to curl his legs in towards himself, to relieve the pressure gathering there, or at the very least expel some of the swollen energy from his limbs by writhing. It’s all he can do, and now Bill is removing that option as well.

“Please, I can’t-”

“I think you’re not trying very hard.”

Holden squeezes his eyes shut, his face flushing hot at Bill’s admonition. Swallowing back a tortured moan, he carefully extends both legs across the mattress. He can feel Bill’s gaze on him, eating his pulsing fresh alive, as he spreads his thighs and leaves his aching cock vulnerable. 

The throb echoes through his body, coarse and deliberate. He doesn’t need to look down to see that he’s twitching in wild, desperate throes against his belly; he can see the reflection in the smug satisfaction in Bill’s eyes. 

“Good.” Bill murmurs, his fingertips grazing Holden’s inner thigh. “Perfect.”

Holden shudders, his eyelids slipping open and shut beneath waves of need. Beyond the hazy film of his eyelids, Bill turns and walks away again, and Holden nearly cries. A panicked question or plea jumps to the back of his tongue, but he swallows it down forcefully. He’d tried mouthing off, he’d tried complying, he’d tried begging; maybe it’s time to shut the fuck up and suffer in silence. Maybe Bill just wants to see how much he can take. 

Clenching his jaw, Holden lies perfectly still as Bill goes to the minifridge and pulls a beer out of the six-pack they’d purchased at the gas station. He drags the chair from the table, and sits down a few feet away from the end of the bed. 

The beer cracks open in the utter silence, raking across Holden’s taut nerves like hot coals. He forces himself to continue lying still, battling off the urge to writhe, scream, curse, or beg. 

Bill takes a slow sip of the beer, and sinks back in the chair with a sigh. His other hand shifts lazily in his lap, looping around his half-hard cock and stroking it in languid, almost disinterested pulls. 

Holden draws in a hitched breath, his fuzzy gaze focusing in on the pulse building in Bill’s cock. 

_ I can take it. I can take it.  _ The thought clings vaguely to the back of his mind, gnawed away at slowly by his burgeoning impatience. If Bill wants him quiet and obedient, that’s what he should be; but Christ, this is worse than anything. He’s never been so fucking hard and desperate in his life, and he can’t keep his mouth shut - never once, not even for his own good. 

“Come on, Bill.” He says, his tone approaching a whine. “What do you want me to do?”

Bill’s gaze is steady, unconcerned. He takes another drink of his beer, and shifts his knees open wider as his fingers curl tighter around his cock. 

“You want me to suck you off again?” Holden whispers, “I’ll do it. Come over here, and I’ll suck it like Nancy never could. I’ll drink your cum, too, if that’s what you want. I’ll swallow it all down and ask for more. How does that sound?”

Bill’s mouth purses another against a smile. His cock swells in his fist. 

“I can tell you want to.” 

“You shouldn’t talk about my wife like that.” Bill says, his eyebrow cocking. He takes a swig of the beer, and presses the back of his hand against his mouth as he swallows. “Are you trying to make this worse for yourself?”

“Fuck. No.” Holden groans, dropping his head back against the pillow. “I’m just … please, I’m begging you.”

“You’re begging?”

“Yes.” Holden whispers, his voice dwindling to a whimper. “Please, Bill, I’ve never been this fucking hard in my life, and it hurts … god, please, it hurts.”

Bill breathing staggers, only slightly. Setting aside the beer, he rises from his chair with his hand still looped around his cock. He’s fully hard now, pulsing gently against the graze of his fingers. 

Holden licks his lips as his gaze clings onto the thick, hard length. His own cock gives a deliberate jolt, hungry at the very thought of Bill touching him in any way, even if it’s just to fuck his mouth again. 

Bill lifts one knee, and climbs onto the end of the bed. 

Holden willingly stretches his legs open wider and lifts his hips in feverish offering. 

Prowling forward on hands and knees, Bill dips his head to scatter a row of fleeting, warm kisses down Holden’s pale, right thigh. 

“Ohh …” Holden moans, his eyes slipping shut in aroused agony as Bill’s mouth blazes its way up his thigh, leaving the sensation to tickle and burn down into Holden’s oversensitized skin. 

Bill’s breath is hot as he reaches Holden’s bare hip. The presence of his body crouched over Holden’s settles like an open electric current, so close to touching him and burning him alive but just far enough away that it only makes every hair on his body stand on end. He squirms helplessly, casting a delirious gaze downward to watch as Bill’s lips brand his hip, the sensitive, lower portion of his belly, and finally the tender join of his thigh and groin. 

“Oh fuck.” Holden groans, his arms tensing and snapping the little slack in the ties taut. “Bill, please …”

Bill’s breath trails along the crease of his groin, just close enough that his cock can feel the slight heat. Scarce inches separate his throbbing erection from Bill’s mouth, but it could have been miles. Even as the possibility draws closer, Holden can imagine it disappearing again an instant. He struggles to lie still, breathing in raspy gasps as Bill’s touch grazes his thigh again. 

“Lift your legs.” Bill murmurs. 

Holden eagerly pulls his legs up until they’re bent at the knee, but Bill nudges him on the calf. 

“Higher.” He says, “Knees up to your chest.”

Holden swallows hard. His conclusions of what was about to happen veer off course and out of sight, and he’s left swimming in his racing, heated thoughts, need and panic colliding in a silent battle inside his head. 

He lifts his legs slowly until his knees are up against his chest, his thighs hugging his ribs. His cock lies between them, throbbing hard while his balls and asshole are left exposed and vulnerable to the heat of Bill’s breath trickling down over sensitive skin. 

Casting a harried glance downward, Holden watches as Bill settles down on his elbows, and runs his fingertips along the backs of his thighs and his ass cheeks. The light, tracing sensation races across Holden’s frayed nerves, and he arches stiffly against the touch. A choked whine stretches from his throat, emerging with only a measure of the desperation he’s feeling. 

Bill leans in closer and opens his mouth to exhale a hot breath down Holden’s cleft. The gust of warm air travels across his sensitive skin as powerfully as the stroke of fingers, drawing everything tight and trembling. The clench of anticipation and humiliated panic only intensifies when Bill’s palm settles against his ass cheek, and his thumb curls inward along the cleft. 

Holden jolts as Bill’s thumb strokes across his asshole, igniting a new sensation that makes his chest burst with need and alarm. His brow creases hard in concentration, and he bites at his lower lip to silence a whimper; but he can’t mute the shock rippling through him when the caress comes again, a bit harder. 

“Oh God, Bill-” He chokes out, his mouth stretching open in a staggered gasp. 

Bill’s thumb circles his hole, inciting the low hum of friction. 

“You’ve never been touched here before?” He murmurs. 

Holden’s face burns. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to smother the humiliation blooming in his chest as he shakes his head. 

“Good.” Bill says.

Holden’s mouth moves in a silent cry of disbelief, but he can’t speak. He feels like he’s sixteen again, that first sloppy, embarrassing encounter with a girl in the backseat of her parent’s car. He’d come in seconds that time, and he feels like he’s about to shoot off now with not even a single touch laid on his writhing cock. 

His racing, shamed thoughts come to a quick, suffocated end when Bill’s tongue licks across his hole. It all blanks to white - his indignance, his obstinance, his panic, his embarrassment - replaced by the slick, velveteen stroke of Bill’s tongue circling his asshole. 

“Oh my god …” He hears himself moan. 

His back arches and his toes curl helplessly against the air as Bill grips the backs of his thighs to keep him pinned down. His mouth surges against Holden’s opening, tongue swirling in fast, deliberate circles. No warm-up, no tentative licking. He lathers the hole in saliva with long, sweeping strokes, then urges it to open with this firm, attentive massage that makes Holden want to fall apart and melt into a boneless heap of humming, powerless flesh. For the first time since the encounter began, he’s certain he wouldn’t need the ties restraining him; he feels completely useless to resist, his limbs twitching with shock of pleasure, his spine arching eagerly towards the pressure. And his mouth - his mouth is hanging open, gasping and pleading, uncaring of just how undignified his desperation is. 

As Bill’s tongue pushes into him and Holden feels the last of his resistance crumble, he silently realizes that this compliance is what Bill had wanted. Not just his willingness to perform, but his inability not to. 

“Oh god …” Holden chokes out, his eyes struggling to slip open and cast Bill a needy gaze. “Bill, oh … I’m close, I’m-”

Bill’s tongue pumps into him, and it feels like he’s being invaded and owned in a way that will never be matched by anything else. He’s completely destroyed, broken down, violated; and he doesn’t want it to stop, not even for relief to come. 

Holden’s eyes slip shut again, and he hears himself moaning in pleasure as Bill reaches up to take his balls in one hand. The grasp is slow, gentle, kneading, and fuck - it feels like he hasn’t come in ages, like Bill is going to massage a month’s worth of pent-up release right out of his body. In this fevered moment, he can’t remember if that’s true or if he’d had an orgasm only days ago, but none of it matters right now because he can feel it building power at his groin, surging towards a powerful pinnacle, ramping up to a climax that’s going to cripple him entirely. 

“Bill, yes …” He pants, his voice fractured and breathless, “Oh, yes, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna …”

Bill’s mouth and hand pulls off of him, coldly ripping Holden from the clutches of mounting pleasure and landing him back in a tortured haze of half-realized orgasm. 

Holden’s eyes blink open in shock, and he gasps in a choked breath. Mortified tears rush against his eyelids right along with the heat scorching his cheeks. 

Bill rises from between his thighs, his mouth a glistening, knife-edged slash of deviant pleasure. 

Holden gasps helplessly, a whine rising to his lips. “Fuck, please. Why are you stopping?”

Bill holds a hand to his mouth, and spits into his palm. His gaze is steady on Holden, but he doesn’t answer. He rubs his spit-slick hand over his own cock, lathering it gleaming saliva for a long moment before he crowds up against Holden’s backside. 

“What did I do?” Holden whimpers, tugging at the restraints. 

“Nothing.” Bill murmurs, guiding his cock up against Holden’s slick cleft. “Feel this?”

Holden nods, sniffling against overwrought distress. 

“Can’t fucking concentrate with you making me this hard.” Bill murmurs, rocking his hips softly into the cradle of Holden’s backside. 

Holden chokes on a moan as the hard, pulsing shaft of Bill’s cock ruts between his ass cheeks, head nudging at his balls in coarse jabs. 

“Fuck.” Bill whispers, his head tilting back as a shiver of pleasure works through him. 

Holden watches with dangling lips as Bill thrusts against him, a filthy mimicry of penetration. Beyond the over-aroused fog in his brain, Holden realizes they’ve stumbled past sloppy handjobs, road head, and juvenile gazes of longing. He wants more than that; he wants Bill inside him, filling him, fucking him, possessing him completely. He wants this kind of untamed desperation that’s eating him alive every week, every day, every second of privacy that they have together; and he wants it like water, an oasis in the middle of a dessert. And he’s fucked. Fucked, and over the edge, leaving sanity fading somewhere in the blue distance. 

Holden’s body goes limp with compliance as Bill rocks against him, hand stroking hard at the top half of his cock until the shudders start deep and burst out in the hot gush of fresh release. This second load spatters Holden’s cock and his belly and drizzles down between them beneath the coarse stroke of Bill’s fist until they’re sliding wetly against one another, a lewd mess of vanquished and unsated flesh. 

Bill draws back, still shuddering through the aftershock, and sinks down on his heels. His hand slides down Holden’s inner thigh, leaving streaks of cum in its wake until he reaches Holden’s throbbing cock. 

Holden's entire body seizes as Bill touches him for the first time, his fingers sliding slowly, slickly through cum, up and down the twitching shaft. 

“Oh my God …” Holden moans, his back arching sharply with a fresh wave of intense arousal. 

Bill’s fingers curl around him, dragging gradually, smearing cum; and Holden shudders and moans something unintelligible, too aroused to string together two pleading words. Pleasure stirs hot and fierce in his groin, building quickly, so quickly that it takes his breath away. He can see the orgasm cresting behind his clenched eyelids, barely a few strokes away, but then, as if his entire body wasn’t devastated and on the verge of collapse appropriately enough, Bill leans down to take it in his mouth. 

Holden nearly cries as the sensation crashes across his strung-out nerves, his body quaking on the very edge of pleasure. His fluttering eyelids open long enough to glimpse Bill’s mouth wrapping around his cock glazed with his own cum, sucking down slow and hard, just before the monumental arousal breaks viciously free. 

His spine snaps into a taut arch as the spasms surge through him, every muscle clamping down so hard that he can’t move save for the fragile shudder of his hips. His mouth stretches open, but nothing emerges; he can’t think, can’t breathe, can only concentrate on the next ripple of climax coming in to crush him.

When the first violent bout passes, his muscles unwind just enough to let him buck up against Bill’s mouth. The paralyzed cry stretches from his throat in a long, fractured moan as he stumbles through the back half, overwhelmed and incredibly sensitized. 

The blanketed white and intense hum of pleasure dissipates down into flinching, tender aftershocks, every part of his body reorienting to reality. He sinks down against the sheets, gasping, eyelids blinking open to find stars still tumbling from the corners of his vision, limbs limp and trembling from the powerful orgasm. 

Bill rises from between his thighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Holden blinks up at him, dazed and in shock. He can’t conjure a single logical thought as Bill crawls up to bring his gaze level with Holden’s right before he bends down to press a hard kiss to his mouth. 

Holden pants into the kiss, letting his mouth slip open willingly. Bill’s mouth tastes of sweet saliva, the salty tang of release, and the heady musk of flesh.  _ Jesus Christ, he’s never tasted so good.  _

Their tongues lap back and forth in eager, satisfied passion for a few moments before Bill leans back to rest his forehead against Holden’s. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ.”

Holden laughs softly, the only gesture he can manage. 

Bill rocks back on his heels, his gaze wandering over Holden’s tied-up, wrecked body. He claps Holden’s ankle in his palm, rubbing a thumb over the inner ankle bone. 

“I don’t want to let you up.” He murmurs, “You look so good like this.”

Holden bites his lower lip, flushing beneath Bill’s appreciative gaze. 

“So what? I’m your hostage now?” He asks, softly. 

“Hmf.” Bill laughs in the back of his throat, “Are you going to try to negotiate with me?”

“I think I just did.” Holden murmurs, stretching out his limp thighs, and arching his back. “If you want this again, you’ll have to let me go to the bathroom, eat some food, drink some water …”

Bill’s mouth curls, and his eyes soften. “No, I think you earned it.”

He leans forward to untie Holden’s wrists. The knots are tightly secure, and take several moments for him to loosen. When they’re finally off, Holden drags his arms to his chest. His wrists throb with the fresh rush of blood, but the flesh had sustained deep ligature marks that he’s pretty sure aren’t going to fade by tomorrow. 

Bill takes him by the forearm and gently pulls him upright. 

Holden leans forward, bracing one hand against Bill’s chest as his head tilts with a dizzy rush of movement. 

Cradling Holden’s hand, Bill guides one raw wrist to his mouth and kisses the red indentations slowly. The press of his mouth lathers over the hum and burn, quickly making Holden forget the agony of the past few hours. 

“Next time …” He whispers. 

Bill’s gaze cuts up to clutch Holden’s fiercely. “Next time?”

“There will be one, won’t there?”

“That’s up to you … smart-ass.” Bill says, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

Holden bites back his own smile. “Next time, I think … I think we should go all the way.”

Bill’s mouth pauses against his wrist, a veil of stark sobriety screening off the satisfaction. He leans back on his heels, and drops Holden’s hand down into his lap where he squeezes it between both of his palms. 

“Are you sure?”

Holden nods. “I wanted that today, but …”

“Yeah. Fuck, me too.”

Holden swallows hard. “So … you agree?”

Bill lets go of his hand, and climbs off the bed without further comment. Holden watches the stiff set of his shoulders as he takes his cigarettes from the nightstand, and presses one to his mouth. His lighter scrapes in the silence. 

“Bill …” 

Bill turns slowly, his face clouded with a plume of smoke. 

“No one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

“You shouldn’t say that.”

“Even if it’s true?”

“Yeah, the truth can be dangerous. Just like your instincts.” 

Holden nods. At one time, he’d trusted his instincts, but this is where they’ve led him. In another man’s bed, tied up, begging for relief. Going down a road of perdition, into a darkness that can’t be perforated by light. Going willingly, wildly, wondrously.

“Just think about it.” He says. 

Bill drags the cigarette from his mouth as Holden climbs off the bed, and strides toward the bathroom. He pushes the door shut behind him, not looking back at Bill’s curious gaze. If he looks back now, Bill might see the sliver of weakness inside of him, the small part that’s still afraid of the enormity of his desires. 

Staring down his reflection in the mirror, Holden silences that hesitation with the numerous, burning details of what they had just shared. Behind the fluttering sheen of his eyelids, he can recall that exact moment when he surrendered completely. He wants to feel that again. He doesn’t have to think about it, and he’s certain - as certain as the blissful quiver inside his own body - that Bill doesn’t have to either. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!  
> 


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